


Winter Trouble

by oozbub



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, M/M, TW: Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oozbub/pseuds/oozbub
Summary: Maxim and Timur go out to Maxim's cabin for a nice winter vacation. This takes place before they would be in a relationship, though still hints at them both wanting one- Maxim a bit more obvious then Timur (though both rather repressed.)Title is subject to change
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Winter Trouble

Maxim threw chips of bark into the fireplace, sitting down in front of it and letting the flames gently warm his cheeks and nose. He glanced back at Timur, who was sitting next to the window- leaning against it and breath fogging the glass as he absentmindedly peered into the long stretch of trees and snow. He wondered what he could be thinking about.

As if on queue, Timur glanced over at him, meeting his eyes,

“So, when are we going to get more wood?” He asked, slowly returning his gaze to the window.

“Whenever. I have some ready to split, I just need to get more to season for next year.” His eyes lingered on Timur, having to turn his body to tear them away.

He mentally cursed Aleksandr and Shuhrat for ditching them at the last moment- being alone with Timur was much more difficult than he anticipated. Lera was excusable- she was part of Team Four for the month, who was to be on base and training during the same week they'd been planning their vacation. They'd all even agreed to take her out to dinner at the end of the month to make it up to her, though Maxim wondered if it was even necessary now that it was just the two of them.

Either way, that didn't change the fact that he ended up alone in his cabin with Timur- possibly the last person he'd want to be so far out with. Well… That statement was simultaneously true and false. He enjoyed being with Timur- he was comfortable with the man and they had a lot in common; their relationship was probably one of the strongest- if not the strongest- Maxim had ever had in his life. That's why he hated it. A twisting feeling crawled into his stomach every time he thought about it- he wasn't quite sure what it was but he prayed it wasn’t what he suspected. Timur's voice pulled him out of his thoughts,

“Are you thinking about how those two ditched us again?” Timur asked, having noticed the way Maxim bit his cheek and furrowed a brow upward.

“A bit.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better- I'm glad it's just us. Aleksandr snores louder than a train and Shuhrat is a total food snob. It's a shame Lera couldn't come, though.” Timur stood, walking over to Maxim and extending his hand, “Let's go get wood now, yes? Before it gets dark.”

Maxim nodded, taking his hand, “Good idea. I'll have to split more wood before then, too.”

“We'd better move quickly, then.”

The two slipped on their coats and boots- stepping out into the frigid afternoon that quickly brought a sharp tingle to their cheeks. 

Maxim led the way, axe in one hand and handsaw in the other. He knew exactly where he was going- stopping at a rather small clearing that had many stumps littered about. He planted the axe into a stump, looking around,

“These trees are going to be such a damn pain to cut.”

Timur sat on a further stump, pulling his knee up, “Why's that?”

“They're getting too tall. I try to make a wide enough clearing _before_ that happens but I guess nature was kind to them this year.”

“I see. So what's my job here?”

Maxim took one final glance around, then picked up the axe again, “Cutting off the branches once i get the tree down would be helpful.”

Timur took the handsaw when Maxim handed it to him, glancing down at the snow that went more than halfway up his shins and deciding to keep the saw in his lap.

_Thwack._

_Thwock._

_Thwack._

Timur watched the whole time, giving a short round of applause when the tree finally fell- to which Maxim just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Maxim glanced up at the sky shortly, then his watch, a frown spreading on his lips, “Damn clouds, we're already losing sunlight and it's not even late.”

“Should we pick this up tomorrow instead?” Timur stood, handsaw at his side.

“Probably for the rest of the trees but… We have time to cut this one and bring it back.” Maxim patted his pockets, scowling, “I forgot the flashlight.”

“I can go get it.” He suggested quickly, placing the handsaw on the stump.

“Skipping out of the heavy work already, I see?” He chuckled, “Fine by me. There's some smaller flashlights by the front door, but the heavy duty ones are in the shed somewhere. Grab whichever.”

“As if I wouldn't get the heavy duty one. I'll be back.”

Timur trudged back to the house, the distant howl of a wolf causing him to instinctively quicken his pace.

The darkness began to set in quickly, but the twinkle of the lights inside the cabin led him back once he was close enough. He headed straight for the shed, minding his step around a large gathering of pots. He huffed upon seeing a lock on the door, giving it a slight tug to see if Maxim had maybe forgotten to reset it, and to his luck- it popped open. He found the bulky flashlight on the floor, faded yellow standing out. His fingers wrapped around the handle just as a yell erupted from outside, nearly causing him to drop it. He stumbled back out into the snow,

“MAXIM?!” He shouted, flicking on the switch and kicking the door shut behind him as he hastily headed back where he came.

“FUCK! TIMUR, BRING A FUCKING WEAPON!” Maxim's heavily muffled reply, followed by a scream.

Timur nearly slipped on the snow trying to stop, turning back to the cabin. He stomped in with snow-caked boots, quickly finding his pistol on a side table and rushing back outside, buckling on his holster as he ran.

“MAXIM!” He called, pistol in his right hand and flashlight in his left. Hell, how'd it get so dark so quick?! The only upside was that the flashlight highlighted the shadows of the prints they had made when originally going into the forest- making it easier for him to quickly find his way back- but that didn't bring him much comfort.

A grunt rang out and a cry shortly followed, Maxim’s voice gradually becoming less dampened by the trees as Timur got closer.

“MAXIM!!” He shouted again, nearly tripping over a branch concealed by snow.

He was running as fast as he could but he felt like he'd been running for forever with no progress. Finally he approached, hearing ragged pants and the friction of clothes on snow, nearly completely drowned out by animalistic growls. He rushed through a thick belt of trees, ducking to avoid a branch, then raising his head and flashlight to reveal the blood-drenched scene.

Maxim was on his back- a wolf on his stomach pinning him down and ferociously attempting to nip at his neck, stopped only by Maxim’s crossed arms pushed against its throat, jacket torn in multiple places and oozing blood. Another wolf was at his legs, biting deep into his kicking right boot- its steel plate being the only thing protecting his foot. The last wolf Timur could see lay lifelessly in front of his own feet- behind and to the left of Maxim’s head- half of its bloodied corpse concealed by the darkness of the night that Timur’s flashlight didn't pierce.

With two precise shots fired in quick succession, both the animals fell lifelessly.

Maxim quickly pushed the carcass off his torso, forcing himself into a sitting position and taking his first proper deep breaths in the past few minutes. He exhaled extremely gutturally, spitting diluted crimson into the snow next to him.

Timur quickly scanned the surrounding area with the flashlight, spotting the blooded axe, then the deep cut swamped with blood in the closest wolf, “Are there more?”

“Нет.” He struggled to push himself to his feet, Timur coming to his aid immediately after switching his pistol to safe. Maxim heaved at the strain on his arms, letting them fall limp once he was standing.

“ _Fuck._ ” Timur breathed, now having fully turned his attention to Maxim.

His arms were littered with multiple lacerations, all gushing blood. The same could be said for a few notches on his leg, and for a few shallow cuts across his torso- though bleeding a bit less, thanks to his jacket having taken the brunt of the attack.

“Fuck.” Timur repeated, shoving his pistol into its holster, “Here, come on.”

He strafed a bit so his left arm wrapped further around Maxim's back, then bending and using his right to sweep the battered man's legs into his arm. He looked to the axe and handsaw, but instantaneously decided getting Maxim back to the cabin was priority, not his tools.

Maxim's breath was choppy, and his limbs nearly limp but he managed to keep his eyes open, half lidded and lazily staring up at the underside of Timur's jaw.

Timur occasionally glanced down at him, each time refusing to look up again until he saw him blink.

By the time they'd gotten back to the cabin Timur was starting to sweat, panting as he pushed open the front door and looked around somewhat frantically. Maxim dropped his arm off his lap, raising it to shakily point at the table. It was obviously not the most ideal place, but it was the best they could get. He’d been wanting a reason to make a new table anyway.

Timur gently lay him on the table, wriggling his arms out from under him and running off to the bathroom. He came back with full arms, nearly dumping everything onto a counter before throwing open cabinets with wild abandon. He washed his hands then finally returned to Maxim's side, helping him tug off his jacket and shirts, fear present in his eyes as he examined his wounds.

“Thank you.” Maxim quietly grunted, feeling a bit more energized now that he was no longer in the freezing cold.

Timur didn't acknowledge it, turning over his arms one at a time, “Did one of them bite you?”

“You know, the polite response to a _thank you_ is _you're welcome_.”

“Now is not the fucking time, Maxim. God, we need a fucking medic.” He mumbled, skimming through his mind for what to do with his limited medical knowledge.

“Good luck calling one, there's no reception out here.”

Maxim turned his head the opposite way when he saw Timur unscrew a bottle, hissing at the sting across his arm that promptly followed.

“Sorry.” He remained focused, sucking in a deep breath before grabbing the gauze and working it into the main gash. He saw Maxim grip the table out of the corner of his eye and he bit his lip, but continued. He wrapped the wound after a few minutes of applying pressure, once he decided it was long enough. Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

Quick examination of the rest of his lacerations suggested that the arm he'd just patched up had gotten hit the worst, and he let out a sigh of relief. The first good news in awhile. He washed his hands in the sink again, then circled around the table, glancing in Maxim’s eyes as he picked up his other arm and examined it closer, mind going back to his previous concern even though this arm had been clearly slashed with claws,

“Maxim, did you get bit?”

He shook his head, “No, I would've told you.”

_Well, you didn't really tell me anything at all…_ Timur wanted to say, but held back. That wasn't important at the moment.

He quietly worked on cleaning, dressing, and wrapping the rest of his wounds, starting next with his leg, wondering how the hell he got lucky enough to not get bit. Once again, not important, he decided.

Maxim did his best to sit up once he felt Timur fasten the bandages on his left arm, to which Timur lightly pushed him back down,

“Holy shit, let me clean it first, Maxim!”

His bloody palm left a print on Maxim's abdomen, which made Timur look down at his hands- fairly lathered in the others blood. He shook his head, returning to the sink, wiping the blood with a towel, then going back to work.

“Ok,” He held a relatively large square of gauze against Maxim's torso, then picked up the bandages, “Now you can sit up.”

Maxim groaned, “Thank fuck.”

The restriction of the bandages brought him the slightest comfort- completed when Timur clipped and taped the bandages wrapped right below his chest. His right arm hurt the most, the odd feeling of the packed gauze really not helping at all.

He pushed himself off the table, stumbling once when he landed.

“быть осторожен…” Timur mumbled from the sink, rinsing blood off his hands for what would hopefully be the last time in a while.

“Да да да.” He suddenly felt a rush of fatigue sweep over him, gripping the closest chair and leaning on it for support, “Could you help me to the bathroom…? I want some fucking painkillers.”

Timur curtly nodded, taking note of the exhaustion present in his eyes. He helped him into the bedroom, letting him go at the bed and heading further to the bathroom on his own,

“You should get dressed too, change your pants.”

“As if. I’m fine like this.” He kicked off both his layers of pants, hissing as the cuffed legs squeezed over his wound, then laying back on the soft mattress.

Timur returned with the bottle of painkillers, rolling his eyes and taking a pair of pajama pants from the drawer and tossing them directly on Maxim's face.

The man groaned as he sat up again, “Fucks sake,” He grumbled, taking the bottle from Timur and popping a few pills before handing them back.

Timur pointed to the pants, then retreated to the bathroom once again. He put the pills away and stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, his eyes sporting a tired droop they hadn't a few hours ago. He looked down to rub his eyes, reminding himself it wasn't quite time to rest yet.

Exiting the bathroom, he saw Maxim laying on the bed again- luckily this time with pants- eyes closed. He let him be, flicking the light off as he left the room to go clean up the snow and blood mess he had undoubtedly made earlier.

  
  


Maxim awoke a few hours later, Timur fussing at his bandages.

“Just leave it be, I'm fine.” He grumbled, barely bothering to crack open an eye.

“I'm no medic, Maxim. If something _really_ goes wrong I can't do shit, preventative measures are all I have.”

He huffed, “Can you hurry, then? It hurts worse when you're prodding at me.”

“I'm just being thorough. Here,” Timur leaned over, taking the little bottle off the bedside table, “I brought the painkillers. Hopefully we'll be out of here before you need to take more.”

“Damn.” He took the pills, attempting to glance out the window above his head, “What time is it?”

“03:00, I think.” He hadn't checked in a while.

“Ugh, my bedtime.” He put the bottle back, climbing under the covers properly now that he was slightly less dead-beat exhausted. He stifled a groan as he did so- _these painkillers better kick in quick,_ he thought.

Timur stood, turning to see Maxim's eyes peeking out from under the blanket and staring at him intensely.

“…Do you need something?”

“Where are you going.” Maxim wasn’t even asking- his tone implying it was apparent Timur wasn't supposed to leave.

“To sleep on the couch, idiot.”

“Yeah right, _idiot_ , come lay down. I already agreed to let you sleep here.”

“Well damn, sorry for assuming you'd only said that originally because with the others here there would've been no choice.”

“It doesn't matter to me. You think I’d make you sleep on that shit after you just fucking saved my life?” Maxim’s tone was gruff, if he weren't seeping blood from multiple wounds he probably would've preferred Timur to sleep on the couch- but he was too focused on the pain to feel his stomach anxiously churning as it would normally.

“Alright, I get it. Go to bed, Maxim.”

“Don't have to tell me twice.”

Timur flicked off the light, swiftly making his way to the bed after doing so, despite the lack of light. He hesitated before getting under the covers, turning his back to Maxim and closing his eyes.

Timur had almost nodded off when he felt Maxim shifting roughly, unable to get comfortable, apparently.

“Are you ok?” Timur mumbled.

“I guess.”

“What's wrong? Do I need to redress something?”

Maxim stopped fussing, voice now piercing the still air, “It's not that.”

“What?”

“I feel… sad.”

“Again, what? Why, because of the wolves?”

“…Yeah. Even though they fucked me up, they only did it because they were starving. It was extremely evident in the first one I killed, it was thin to the bone- I could tell even with just a glance at it. The second one went down just as easily, they were all so weak. They wouldn't have attacked me if they weren't starving.”

“Wait- I killed two. There were four?”

“Five.”

“How did I miss them?”

“…”

“Sorry. I guess that doesn't matter. But… nature is harsh, Maxim. We both did what we had to- I wouldn't have killed them if they weren't going to kill you, and you, the same- I know this.”

“I know too. It's still sad. I'm so fucked up I can't even collect them to put their parts to good use.”

Now it was Timur's turn to fall silent. He understood Maxim's feelings on a surface level- but he'd slowly come to realize he'd never quite fully be able to relate to- or even understand- how Maxim felt about it. Though, Maxim was so dedicated to wildlife and preservation- Timur couldn't expect himself to. Timur racked his brain, finally managing to find something to say,

“I'm sure another animal will.”

“I… Yeah, you're probably right.” Maxim wasn’t sure how much he believed his own words, but it was enough to get him to settle back down, closing his eyes and finally able to properly rest again.

  
  


Timur woke up late by his standards- though not on purpose, causing him to curse under his breath once he saw the time. He quickly slipped out of bed, going to the window and immediately noticing how it had stopped snowing. That was good news, at least.

He went to the kitchen, making himself a quick meal before heading for the front door- he had a lot to do today.

Maxim woke up hours after him, greeted by the dull pain of his wounds before he even opened his eyes. He could already tell Timur wasn't next to him, so he cracked open his eyes to see if he had just gotten up. He hadn't- and was nowhere to be seen, even through the open door that peered into the living room. He grunted after a few minutes, almost going to push himself out of bed when he heard loud boots on the wood porch.

“Timur?” He croaked when he heard the front door open- voice much quieter than he anticipated.

Timur took off his boots, appearing in the bedroom doorway to respond, “You're awake?”

“Enough so. Why were you outside?”

“I was shoveling- we need to get out of here so we can get you real medical help.” Timur wandered around the room as he talked, ensuring nothing of his was still laying around. His packed bag was already sitting just outside the bedroom doorway.

“God damn. Did it stop snowing?” Maxim sat up, groaning as he did. His back felt sore.

“Yes, for the time being. We should hurry and go before it can pick back up.”

Maxim nodded, slowly inching out of the bed to stand. He watched Timur as he hobbled towards the door, ensuring he could actually walk on his leg before taking more natural, heavier steps.

“Damn, I'm glad I didn't bring any of my shit.” Maxim said, stopping in the doorway.

He noticed Timur shaking his head at one of his outfits he found on a dresser- and had apparently missed earlier. Timur started to fold it before Maxim piped up,

“Just leave it. I'm sure we'll come up next year, and you barely wear that anyway.” He felt a twist in his stomach, correcting himself, “All of us, I mean.”

With that, he pushed himself into the kitchen. He stared blankly at the food in the cabinets before opting for a simple bread based breakfast; he didn't really want to waste time making something too complex. He was busy stuffing his face when Timur rejoined him, holding out a pair of shirts,

“You really should've slept with a shirt. It's cold, the body heals better in what it deems perfect conditions.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He pushed the rest of his meal into his cheeks, taking the shirts anyway.

“Wait,” Timur piped up when he started to slip on the first shirt, “We should change your bandages before you do that.”

Maxim hesitantly placed the shirts on the counter, “Is it really necessary?”

“Better than risking infection.”

He grunted, “I guess.”

Timur went off to get his supplies again and Maxim hopped onto the table, grunting at the strain on his arms. He waited somewhat patiently for Timur to return, gently kicking a leg out of anxiety and tracing wood patterns in the furniture. He looked away when Timur finally returned, biting his cheek as he went to work. _God,_ it fucking hurt.

Timur made quick work now that he somewhat knew what he was doing and Maxim bleeding out was no longer so big of a threat. He felt a bit of pride as he pinned the last bandage, noticing he had done it all without getting a single smear of blood on his fingers.

Maxim rotated his head slightly, glancing over at Timur, “Are you done?”

Timur nodded, backing up and allowing Maxim to hop off the table- which he instantly regretted and hissed at. Timur handed him his shirts,

“I'll wait outside. Shout if you need help.”

With that, he picked up his bag and left the cabin.

Maxim got dressed as quickly as he could- finding the second layer of clothes much easier to put on as they didn't get caught on his bandages. He decided against changing his socks once he'd pulled his leg up to his chest- all of his injuries protesting the pose. Crusty socks were more bearable, he decided.

He threw on his jacket and boots, thankful for the zipper down the side, then slipped out into the cold. Timur lifted his chin out of the collar of his coat,

“Ready?”

“Let's just go.”

Timur slung his bag over his shoulder then took place next to Maxim, nestling under his arm and wrapping his own around Maxim's back.

Maxim didn't object, leaning on him to ease off his leg.

The walk was much slower than the one Timur had taken this morning- though it was to be expected now that he was practically dragging the other man. He didn't bother talking, the way Maxim was breathing told him he'd probably have difficulty responding anyway. Maxim's breathing only worsened as time went on- even with Timur’s help, the laceration in his leg was proving to be more of a problem than he expected. Timur stopped, forcing Maxim to as well,

“I'll carry you.”

Maxim wasn't sure if he should object, but his hesitation said enough, Timur ducking back under his arm and scooping him into his own. He walked much faster now, following the tracks he'd made before just like he had done on the way back, and the previous night.

“At least let me fight you on it, it'd make me feel better.” Maxim chuckled.

“I'd rather not. Maybe next time.”

Maxim's eyes widened, but his brows furrowed, “Next time?”

“Well…” Timur looked off to the side, now chuckling himself.

Maxim huffed, leaning his head against Timur's shoulder, “I’m going to nap. You clearly don't deserve me right now.”

“Fine by me.”

Timur chuckled once again as he shook his head, rolling his eyes before focusing on his surroundings again.

Maxim unintentionally followed through with his statement- at first keeping his eyes closed out of stubbornness, but genuinely falling asleep only minutes later. Timur didn't mind, the silence allowing him to be more aware of his surroundings.

  
  


The semi-quiet crunching of ice and dirt under the cars wheels woke Maxim up no sooner than half an hour later, the trembling of the seat under him in sync with the sound. Neither made his body feel any better.

“Damn, I really fell asleep?” He rubbed an eye, somehow feeling more tired than he had when he woke up that morning.

“Are you really surprised?” Timur kept his eyes on the bumpy road, though a slight smile spread on his lips.

“I guess not.” He grumbled, lightly crossing his arms over his chest as he looked out the windshield. Upon seeing the road, he realized while there were thick banks lining the road, the snow on the road itself was thin, “Wait, you came all the way out here to shovel?”

“We wouldn't be able to drive out if I hadn't. The main road’s fine, it looked like it had been salted, but this side road is your responsibility since it leads to your cabin, I guess.”

Maxim snorted, “Maybe you should've forced me out to shovel instead, then.”

“Yeah right, and have all my hard work patching you up go to waste?”

“Ugh,” He held onto his torso as they went over a particularly large bump, “It's about to now anyway.”

Timur glanced over, grimacing and gently placing a hand on his arm, “Sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm-” He sucked in a breath as he shifted, leaning against the door and causing Timur's hand to slide off his arm- which made him regret his choice to move, “I'm fine. Could we talk about something else? Closest I'll get to painkillers…”

Timur's eyes flicked to his right then left, ensuring the doors were locked. He returned his hand to the wheel,

“Ah, sure.” He pursed his lips, thinking up a topic for a moment, awkwardly continuing, “I actually wanted to ask you earlier- what’s growing in those pots by the shed?”

Maxim scowled, “God damnit, I forgot about that. Just another problem- they're saplings, every few years I replace the trees I've cut down. I meant to plant them this year but that's obviously not happening now. They're going to be heavy as shit next year.”

“Well, we could always come back out here before then, you know. I'll help you plant them, say, in late spring?”

“Are you proposing another outing, Glazkov?”

“Are you objecting?”

Maxim glanced out the side window, failing to force down a grin, “Well, I'd be a fool to turn down the help, especially since they have to be taken out to that clearing.”

“I'll have to attend more first aid classes, then.” Timur’s eyes went soft, “…Is this vacation still hypothetical?”

“Do you want it to be?”


End file.
